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I was really hoping that the Sabres season wouldn’t come down to this, depending on wins against Detroit, Carolina, and Boston, as well as losses from everyone else, to get us into the post-season.
Call me a Debbie Downer, but let’s be realistic. I’m just prepping myself for the pain I’m going to feel Sunday morning when I can no longer watch the Sabres until September.
And don’t think this doesn’t kill me, because it does.
Last night, while Kim and I were watching the Blackhawks game over at Clare’s with Emily, I was being all optimistic. I honestly don’t remember what I said, but it was something along the lines of, “Hey, the Sabres can make it!” But then I had to go and ruin it for myself by saying that, even if they do make the playoffs, they won’t go further than the first round. I mean, Boston? The Boston Bruins? For serious? We went 3-2 against them this year (…which is actually a lot better than I had thought; I remembered us getting killed by them basically every single time we played them except for the debut of the third jersey. Apparently I don’t pay attention enough?). Yes, that’s not entirely all that bad, but Boston has been atop the East all season, and they’re a damn good team who hasn’t had to kill themselves to *maybe* make the playoffs. The Sabres would be tired, and probably wouldn’t stand much of a chance against the Bruins.
And I don’t know what’s worse… Missing the playoffs? Or the propects of being obliterated in the first round?
Hell, I’m going to be the same old optimistic fan I always have been.
We’re going to the finals.
On another note, my new best friend Ashley who lives up in Portland is the love of my life. Mike Funk news and pictures are two of my favorite things ever, and she knows just how to make me happy.
Anne and I have been swooning for 12 hours straight for many reasons, and it’s not doing our psyches any favors. We wouldn’t have it any other way, though.
And lest I forget, it’s Sparky’s Birthday!!! Happy 24th Grizz!
Go Sabres! Let’s make it happen, boys. I can’t take your tears, so I’d better not see any. Although, if you’re crying, I’ll be crying, and then I wouldn’t see anything, buy you know what I mean.
When Buffalo scored less then a minute in the game I got nervous because usually that translates into a quick goal for the other team. However, when we ended the first period still up by a goal my spirits were temporarily lifted, then when Kotalik scored making it 2-0 I was flying high. But my dreams of conquest slowly started to dissipate and the cartoon cloud of doom started to hover when Pittsburgh scored twice tying the score at 2. But Sparky Clarky who has been on fire lately scored on the power play allowing the Sabres to pull ahead 3-2 at the end of the second. Why do you build me up Buffalo Sabres just to let me down? Then everyone knows what happens next Pittsburgh scores sending the game into overtime, which against Pittsburgh usually never bodes well for us, and Squidney gets the game winner with a VERY questionable goal. I still say that the stick was higher then the crossbar as did all the other Sabres’ fans left in the arena who still had hope that the goal would be disallowed. But once again we were all disappointed which to Buffalo is really nothing new I swear we’re getting battered wife syndrome, they keep beating us down yet we keep coming back for more. Go figure.
And how about Petey’s ‘fight’? Or as I like to call it Bromance on Ice because they were literally hugging each other for a good half a minute before the first punch was thrown which got them both 5 minute majors for fighting. How about 2 minutes for unnecessary hugging? I think that would have been a much more appropriatepenalty. Sorry I’m just a little bitter. Okay, well that was a huge understatement a lot bitter but that’s besides the point. Once again Happy Birthday to the best PIC ever and I guess it’s better luck next time we go to a game together which is Saturday actually. Until then Happy Holidays everyone.
So Saturday night was pretty much awesome.. That is, until about 2 am, at which point Lucas and Jay decided to argue about which anatomical area on the male body fosters more bacteria: The groin, or the hands. And then they were arguing about when they should wash their hands–before or after they use the bathroom. WAY TO KILL A FABULOUS MOOD. They pretty much ruined the party. Oh well.
And then, I was planning on driving home, but since, in that particular area of Amherst we were in, you couldn’t see out the front window of their house, I spent the night at Britt’s, since she lives two minutes from there, and myself 15.
So yesterday morning, I found myself comfy in B’s bed, trying to post from my phone. Alas, since Verizon has what I am sure is the worst mobile internet around, I had written my entire post, and THEN IT WOULDN’T LET ME. And I was too frustrated and tired and hung-over to write it again once I had come home.
But anyways, it mostly consisted of something like this (I’m going purely from memory, here, kids. Bear with me.):
WTF, SABRES. WTF.
See, now, I’m think I’m an extremely devoted person, when I want to be. So when I take the time to be devoted to a flailing hockey team, YOU TAKE IT.
I almost abandoned you, though. See, my 16-year-old cousin Trevor plays hockey for his high school. I almost took up cheering for his team full time instead of you, Sabres. Because his team is actually good. And he’s my cousin, so I have to like his hockey team. But Sabres? You’re making me want to like his team.
THAT IS, UNTIL I DECIDED TO BREAK UP WITH PRINCESS D, AND NOT PAY TOO MUCH ATTENTION TO YOUR GAME, AND INSTEAD GET DRUNK. THEN YOU DECIDE TO WIN.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
But I’m glad you won. And I’m glad Derek scored. We’re broken up until further notice. But just so you know, D, I want you back.
Just to prove that we do, in fact, belong together: At the party we were playing Fuck the Dealer. Now, the first deck of cards that Tom grabbed from somewhere in the house was a deck Luke had received when he went to Aces and Blades a couple years ago. I had never played this game before, so when my turn came around, I had no strategy, or anything. I just picked a number–8–and who was on that card, a winning card, mind you? DEREK ROY. FATE-TASTIC, FOR REALS.
But anyways, I don’t really have much to say in the way of hockey. Nothing’s really happened.
Oh… Wait. My Pirates.
So I’m sad that Marky Mark’s stay in Buffalo has ended. Lindy really didn’t utilize him correctly, but whatever. Moving on. GERBE DERBY!!! AHHHHHHHH. Enough said.
And my poor Mikey Funk… Remember how he had a concussion during camp, that he suffered on, like, the first day? Yeah, well when Kim and I were up in Portland for a game, it just so happened to be my love’s first game back from the head injury. So Saturday night, who gets absolutely obliterated from behind into the boards? MIKE FUNK. Who has another concussion as a result? MIKE FUNK.
I swear to God, if he becomes the next Tim Connolly/Brett Lindros/Pat LaFontaine in regards to bruised brains, I’LL SERIOUSLY CRY, because I love him.
Okay then. Now that I got that out of my system… I baked cookies last night for a friend, and then I made some special ones for Kim and myself, for our little soiree this evening.
If I could send cookies (the edible kind) through the internet, I’d have a big platter full of them for you all. But, since I can’t do that, here’s something sweet instead:
BACKGROUND INFO IS NECESSARY, THOUGH. Remember that picture that caused quite a ruckus in these parts recently?? Well, remember how we thought that it was one Clarke MacArthur that was grabbing the junk of one Derek Roy??
WELL IT WASN’T THE GENERAL, AND I HAVE THE PROOF.
Here’s a snipet of the picture in question:
Now take a look at this picture, which I got off of another Facebook account:
The guy in the green Fox track jacket and the green Von Dutch hat would be D’s younger brother, Scott. Hmm, that other green shirt looks awfully familiar, doesn’t it? And the guy next to Derek–supposedly Sparky–doesn’t appear to look like Sparky at all, actually.
So there you have it, folks. Derek’s sexuality status is still in limbo, but as far as I’m concerned, the second coming of the Man-Child is straight, and as innocent as can be.
LET’S GO BUFFALO!!!
Cari: Danny, I missed you tonight.
Dan: Yeah, I wish I could’ve played, but you know how it goes…
Cari: So, why did I see you all sad and lonely up in the press box this evening?
Dan: Well, you know, I got sick somehow. I think Drew might’ve given me some candy off the floor or something… Adam’s always telling me and Clarke not to take stuff from Drew because he’s a weirdo. But Drew always has the best candy and stuff, so I didn’t think it would be a problem…
Cari: Okay, you’re sick… That makes sense, I guess. But why were you all by yourself? How come you weren’t sitting with Timmy?
Dan: First of all, I’m not allowed to hang out with Timmy. Adam says he plays Doctor too much, and that I can’t play with him if he does. Second of all, I was in Time Out.
Cari: Time Out?!? How come?
Dan: Because I threw up in Nathan’s skates…
Cari: So that’s why he wasn’t playing tonight… But why all alone, though?
Dan: Adam said it was punishment for not throwing up in “that little puke Lucic’s” skates. I kinda wish I had after he tried to kill all my friends tonight. I’m going to get him one day for that. And that’s a promise. But Pat already told me that Lucic had better watch out if they’re ever on the ice at the same time.
Cari: Yeah, I don’t care for him much, either, especially after he went after Princess D.
Dan: Yeah. Oh hey! I like that jersey on you, by the way. I’ll tell Derek that you look good in his name. Hey, and maybe that’s why he played so well tonight!!
Cari: Danny, my friend, I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. And also, tell him that I honestly believe in my heart that he should have had four goals tonight, the last coming on a penalty shot? Thanks much.
Dan: Sure thing.
Cari: And make sure everyone knows that Kim and I, next time we’re in Boston, are going to track Milan Lucic down and beat his ass. Because I hate him.
Dan: I know. Hey, I have to go. It’s past my bedtime.
Cari: Okay, Danny. I’ll talk to you later. Good night, precious.
So, beyond that, I’m soooooo incredibly happy about tonight’s game. But here are the things I’m thankful for:
– The guy behind us at the game tonight who said “I want to call up Gerbe just to see if he could skate through Chara’s legs.”
– The group of four 11-year-old boys who told a Bruins fan that they’d “never seen a girl look hotter in a Boston jersey.”
– The fact that no Sabres died in the making of this victory.
– Derek Roy’s inability to stop finding ways to make me love him, and make fun of him, all at the same time.
– Paul Gaustad and Ryan Miller’s inability to stop raising my expectations of men.
– Thomas Vanek’s ability to continuously light the lamp.
– Patrick Kaleta, Andrew Peters, and Adam Mair’s willingness to beat the crap out of people and sacrifice their bodies for the sake of the game.
– Tim Connolly’s strength of character, combined with his entertaining sex-capades.
– Drew Stafford’s Facebook pictures.
– Henrik Tallinder’s dancing.
– Jaroslav Spacek’s interviews.
– Nathan Paetsch’s smile.
– Mark Mancari’s voice.
– Daniel Paille’s inability to take a normal-looking picture.
– Patrick Lalime’s adoration of his daughters.
– Craig Rivet’s adoration of Buffalo.
– Jason Pominville’s loyalty to The (dreaded) System.
– Maxim Afinogenov’s best game in a long time.
– Jochen Hecht’s shortie, as well as the look on his face when he heard me say “I love you.”
– Ales Kotalik’s admission that he designed a line of hats.
– Clarke MacArthur’s curly hair.
– Toni Lydman’s choice in women.
– Teppo Numminen’s picture from 1985.
– Andrej Sekera’s polo player sweater.
– Lindy Ruff’s ability to inspire these guys, year after year, after year.
– All of the Sabres Bloggers, because they’re all foxy and incredibly intelligent, and probably some of the funniest writers I’ve ever come across.
– The city of Buffalo for being amazing.
– My cat Delilah for being the cutest fat cat around.
– And, lastly, my beautifully sexy friends, especially my dear Kimberly, as well as my mostly awesome family. Without them, I’d be completely lost in life.
So, everyone, have a beautiful holiday with your respective loved ones, and Kim and I will resume posting on Friday. I’m sure I forgot stuff about the game tonight, and I’m equally as sure Kim will let me know about it. So those things will make it up here eventually. But, until then, be safe, eat turkey, and love those Sabres!!
The Sabres need to learn how to do it, so they should take a lesson from me.
(1) As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I got bored with our layout/template/thing, so I freshened it up. And can I please tell you how obnoxious it is to mess around with Blogger’s templates? They’re all kinda ugly, or already being used, and since I like to be all cutesy with my stuff, and I don’t like to copy people, I get really annoyed when you’re only given a handful of options. Whatever, though.
(2) MARK MANCARI SCORED HIS FIRST NHL GOAL LAST NIGHT!!!!! I was soooo proud. We (the nurse I work with and myself) were watching the game at work, and she was laughing her ass off when he scored because I was awing, and saying “Aw, Mark, I love you! I’m so proud of you!” She said I looked like a doting mother watching her only daughter get married. BEST ANALOGY EVER.
(3) Derek scored again, finally. And he couldn’t have done it at a better time, as far as I’m concerned, because, while I was driving to work yesterday, a guy from the Sabres Store called me, and left a message saying that my NEW THIRD JERSEY CAN BE PICKED UP ON WEDNESDAY. YAYYYYYY!! So now I take back saying that I wasn’t too sure if I wanted his jersey anymore, because Princess D is starting to play better.
(4) When D scored yesterday, Kim texted me and said “he doesn’t skinny dip, he chunky dunks.” This is why I love her.
(5) Awesome reader Katie told me that she saw D eating spaghetti at Chef’s yesterday, and that he eats like a pig. Now, I don’t know about you, but I tend to view all the Sabres as perfect people, kinda like every girl’s expectations of Mr. Right. So I never expect any one of them to shovel pasta into their mouth and let the mozzarella cheese that was melted all over it to stick to the plate as they chew a mouthful. So, Katie, as fantastic as that was, I’m going to forget you ever told me that, and go on living in my blissful, delusional world. No offense though. I still love you.
(6) I decided that I’m not going to comment on actual game-play until the Sabres start winning again.
(7) If the playoffs were to start today, we’d be out. That’s depressing, considering the start we had.
(8) I totally called Timmy C’s injury–BROKEN RIB. Called it. And I’m not one to say I told you so… Actually, who the hell am I kidding. I TOLD YOU SO!! =]
(9) I never commented on Paul’s fish story. A-FREAKING-DORABLE. I hate worms too, but that’s mostly because when I was little, my friend Kevin used to (AND I’M NOT KIDDING YOU. I SWEAR.) squirt chocolate syrup on them and eat them like spaghetti. At least Derek doesn’t do that… But I don’t like fish, either. My friend Kristle’s dad used to fish all the time and he’d gut them in the backyard while we were laying out in the sun. Gross.
I leave you with my last comment of this Sunday, as I’m currently watching the Bills, leading the Chiefs. *crossing fingers* …maybe??
And really, if you haven’t read MJ’s post yet like I told you do, do it now. You won’t regret it.
Okay, so I’m full of mixed emotions today. SO EXCITED BECAUSE WE COULD FINISH THE PRESEASON ABOVE .500!!! But totally bummed because Channel 4 has been replaced with CBS College Sports and The CW is MIA. On that subject, tonight I’m going to be missing the season premier of a show that I sometimes watch (because for some odd reason math intrigues me), Numb3rs, and that also means Sunday afternoon I’ll be missing the first 45 minutes of the Bills game, and I’ll be sad, because I love the Bills. And on Monday, I’ll be without my teenage angst-driven dramas, Gossip Girl and One Tree Hill; Tuesday evening I’ll be missing my dear Anthony DiNozzo on NCIS. Guys, I’m really upset about this. Like… well, not nearly as upset as I am when the Sabres lose, but close enough.